


Sunrise

by leogrl19



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, I'm just here for the VANASHA, Prophecy Fulfilled, She is like: ALL MY WEAKNESSES ROLLED INTO ONE, Yet another character to make me write for a game I did not even PLAY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 01:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11071104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leogrl19/pseuds/leogrl19
Summary: (Or, 'All Who Wander Are Not Lost'...)Aloy and Vanasha, catch up, after the Slayer of Hades returns to Meridian for the first time, in a year.





	Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> Horizon was oh-so pretty; open world isn’t my bag, but as a vid on Youtube—just lovely. And, GOODNESS—the COLOR SPECTRUM OF CHARACTERS! To see so many Black NPCs, especially, was *SUCH* a treat~  
> Speaking of: Vanasha. ...Too GOOD for their world; too GOOD for ours. From those AMAZING outfits, to her precious snark(and DEM ABS)—she is a national treasure. Honestly, I consider it - Duty - to add more of her to the fanfic realm.
> 
> No objective to speak of; just letting these two flow~

* * *

 

‘ _Care for a drink, little huntress? Of course you do. My treat._ ’

…Aloy sighs. Crumples the note, back, into a well-creased fold; stuffs it in a pocket.

Three lines — four, if she counted the time and location. Five: the flagrant ‘V’, resting in a corner.

(Knows: Only one person, informed enough to recognize her presence in the vast city—upon arrival—and dramatically summon her, all at once…)

Had decided to wait; in the stuffy Carjan teahouse. Nobles and servers eyeing her, both, with thinly-veiled awe or rapt curiosity( _whispering_ ) — for an _hour_ , before deciding the other wasn’t going to show.

Not particularly surprised or disappointed. The same as with, a sudden gale, in the stretch of a calm breeze; or a fickle downpour, lacking all trace of warning.

(In her mind: The woman is a calamity. Natural and Sublime.)

Aloy leans, into the edge of a fountain, ornately crafted into a wrapping bench, opposite the teahouse; the smell of spice and chants of priests, wafting in the air.

Looks: To bustling crowds and overlapping conversations.

…Smirks. Even with a year: the constantly changing Meridian hadn’t changed at all. As busy and _loud_ and _frantic_ as ever.

Could be on her way(Has, no doubt, the other would _still_ find her); but doesn’t mind it. Jarring and uncomfortable; after so much isolation.

(— **Hers**. Isolation with **choice**.)

Thinks. Maybe that’s what _they_ need; the fitful, passing figures. To feel like they’re not alone.

She.

Had slowed down. Backtracked;

Visited: the grave, built for Rost.

Didn’t have time(Didn’t want it?), to process and grieve and pick up all the pieces. A purpose:  _ **Vengeance**_ —so _convenient_

Until it had become, so much _bigger_ than her(— _Wider_ —)yet all about her… And she was left floundering….

Then: She had(Only)options. She’d been given the world.

(Wanted. To Care.)

So many ways she could be _Useful_ :

…‘ _Anointed_ ’(— _scowls_.) Among the Nora;

Champion to the Sun-King;

A fellow Vanguard with Erend;

None of them felt _right_.

All her life, she looked for answers—had to **_fight_** , for _every morsel_ ; _insatiable_. About the world and her circumstance. Now that she had them—

(Knew the **Weight** ; of what it took, for her, to even _exist_ )

It felt—Important. To get it right.

(Elisabet…

Elisabet wanted her: Free. To choose.)

Rost did too. Didn’t want to be a _shackle_.

— _Sees_ , that now.

(…pulls a cord, from feathers and fabric. Fingers; curved wood…)

So, she continued to wander. Not lost.

Helping those she came across; sticking to the wilds. Looked back: And found it’d been a year.

There had been a few odd jobs, where the two of them crossed; it, starting out—separate—enough. Only, to end with a presiding Vanasha and a sharp grin. “Utter coincidence”(though, Aloy wonders, with the other woman, if that’s true—or, even, _possible_ ).

Breaking up emerging slave trades; aiding the wrongfully accused or taken; subduing threats to certain, high powers…

—and  _After_ : Moments. When she returned to Alone. Around campfires; during long rides, atop, a Strider… Where she thinks of her, without cause.

That she likes those ‘chance’ encounters. Maybe.

(Looks forward to them.)

Thinks:

( _Such a close thing_.)

What if she ignored, Vanasha, all those months ago? Pegged her a threat— _bizarre_ and all too _familiar_ —and gotten away, as fast as she _could_?

( _If_ , _if_ , _if_ )

“My. Don’t we look restless?” A flash of purple silk; a crescent grin. Vanasha lounges, beside her; as if, there, all along. “Unacceptable. By the way.” Those lips, thin. “You must know how terribly rude it is to keep any woman waiting. With me: It’s positively fraught with danger; an unimaginable risk to one’s overall well-being — just ask.”

…Huffs. “You were the one who was late.”

Wide eyes: “Me? Late? Blasphemy. No, no, little huntress; _you_ were just too early.”

“Ah.” Aloy tucks the necklace, back under.(Makes sure to place every conceivable  _inch_ of **_sarcasm_** into the word.)

“Of course: I forgive you. How ever could I stay mad at those freckles?” (Stares.) The other tosses hands from her lap, helplessly. “All right—you‘ve found me out.” A smile that: _blooms_ , broad and entertained. “I wanted to see how long you’d last in that sort of environment.”

Crosses her arms. “And?”

“Longer than I dared to imagine. An entire hour!” Dips; _slight_ —leans to her, and grazes a shoulder. “Whoever penned that little note, you were grousing and grumbling over, must be _quite_ the important person….”

Aloy scoffs( _of course_ , the other had been watching—probably, with a _drink_ ); decides: Not to make it any worse.

Every time they talk, it feels like a crafted thing; like a practiced _Face_. The other has put on, for the occasion:

(‘Aloy’s Mask’)

Has no doubt, the woman is A—manipulator. A puller of strings.

One who’s tongue—sets a path, its target is meant to follow.

A

 _Seductress_.

(Never, personally, felt manipulated, in that way; given straightforward requests, because she was a 'good person'. Strikes; to her “conscience”.)Never twirled hips or promises of pleasure…

—doesn’t know if it’s a good or bad thing. (And maybe. She’d been a little envious of Three-toe Huadiv….)

A low  _hum_. “I'm well aware of your pouting face—delectable thing that it is—and that; was not it.” Vanasha cranes her head, in front of her(— _close_ ; enough, to spot spindly markings), brown eyes, flicking, between her own. Thinning. “Little huntress; little huntress: Where did you wander?”

Grins—abashed. Backs away. “Sorry. Kinda. Comes with the territory, being by myself, for so long.” Scratches a brow. “Lots of introspection.”

“‘Introspection’…”

“Just. Happy to see you, I guess.” Straightens. “So. Why were you late?”

Those eyes, _linger_ ; before, the other retreats. Flicks a shoulder: “Something came up, as ‘something’, always does. More specifically: Someone. Any more specific," puckered lips, "and you’ll know too much.”

“You’re actually keeping it to yourself?” Blinks— _Amazed_. “Knowing you: fair bet, this was all a front, and you’d try to rope me in, somehow.”

A _touched_ sigh: “You really do, know me _so_ well…. But— _this_ time, at least; I solely, wanted to catch up with an old friend. Have that tea and conversation; without, the pretense of an ultimate battle, to save the world as we know it. A thing we’ve yet to do—for the record.” (But. Doesn’t make any  _motions_ to rise.) “Seeing you again, is expected. The only surprise: Is that it’s here.” Crosses a leg; pooling silk, following, its outline. “Have you found what you were looking for?”

Aloy—shifts. “That’s… difficult to answer.” (— _Is_ it?)Feels the lines of her forehead, _ridge_ and _gather_. “No.” (It tastes like **_Failure_** )Water, murmurs; in the silence. She _exhales_ ; draws a hand, _tight_ , against her thigh. “Nothing feels right.”

( **Doesn’t** : Know _why_ , she gives the woman— _Truth_. She’s barely, grasped…)

“Come with me.”

…Opens her mouth; closes. (Feels. That little fire in her chest, _Flare_ ; a bit _brighter_ —when their eyes meet). Pinched brows. “What?”

Vanasha smiles—wide—with ease. “If you’ve nothing but time on your hands—time enough, to ponder, those sorts of things—I’ll make use of you.” ( _Transitions_ )Narrowed eyes; gaze—sharp. “Right now: You’re an arrow, freed; striking whatever happens, to stray, in your path. But. _You_ could be focused. Intentional.” _Leans_ ; toward her. “Know this, Aloy.” (—a _jolt_ , like _lightening_ ); “There is little, in life— _greater_ ; than action with intent.”

Gapes;

(Knows — _lack of control_. What it is, to have every part: **Dictated**.

Labeled and Forsaken….)

A **_thought_**. The moment she was made a Seeker:

(Wouldn’t it be _nice_ ; to be something _More_?)

 **Intentional**.

Believes; the other woman knows, **That** — _too_.

Denied existence.

 _Speaks_ :

(For the Voiceless.)

“Yeah.” ( _Surprises herself_ —when it leaves her lips; low—but with no **doubt**.) Nods; to mark it in stone. “If you’ll have me.”

(‘Right’ or Not)

—Its’s **Hers**.

And there’s something — _genuine_ — to the turn, of those lips; something bright( _Sublime_ ), in the crinkling of eyes. “Would I offer, if there were any possibility, otherwise?” Turns and _shifts_ ; until their legs, touch. “We’re the same, you and I. Whispers in insanity. Together — _louder_.” A hand, spread, across her thigh; catching, hers — unfurling it. “We believe, good things should happen to good people; and that the bad should be held accountable. We know; what it takes, to be free.” Traces: a line across her palm(— _Shivers_ ). “More than all of those things: I know I can count on you.”

Brown eyes; _Bare_

(Thinks. It’s the closest she’ll _see_ , to Surrender…)

“I’m with you.” (An echo; an **oath** —reaffirmed)Aloy, _tugs_ ; at fingers; draws her hand: In. “We’ll fight them together.”

“Mm. And, _that_ , little huntress, is why I like you.” (Looses it: with a smile— _enigmatic_ , as always—

But; her Focus, points out, the slightest, _jump_ , in heart rate…)

 _Smiles_.

Removes; the device with her free hand, and slips it into a pouch of her belt. “I…” ( _tumbling_ heat); _stumbles_ ; “like you, too.” Doesn’t fully grasp; the dangerous _Thing_ ; whirling and knotting( _blooming_ ), inside her—an instinctual **_desire_**.

 **Wants** : to unlock the woman. Be.

(unlocked)

— **Wants**. To be _Worthy_ ….

“ _Hmm_.” It, rolls, in the other’s throat; head, canting, as if weighing its worth. (Doesn’t add— _more_ ; but she knows its been: _Received_.) “Think of it: The Moon at our backs; and the Sun, rising, before us. And, between the two,” A _grin_ ; rounding into widening eyes. “Endless possibility.”

( **Likes** : How her whole body — _moves_ , with her words)

Expressions: _Liquid_ and _Unstable_ …)

“…You’re; ‘endless’, enough, all on your own.” _breathed_ (—out. Before she can _catch_ it.)

“Oh?” (Those eyes, _turn_ — **curious** )Vanasha presses; _closer_. Runs; a nail, along a braid. “And that’s, enough for you?”

—Looks _away_.

(A **_frightening_** Revelation, that; Maybe…

It _Could_.)

Doesn’t think. She could make such a huge step: For a tribe, or a city, or a _group_ —

But. One?

(Vanasha.)

Doesn’t. Hate the idea.

(Knows: Home can be a Person.)

"Freedom. Doesn't have to mean 'alone'." Turns _back_ ; to meet, brown eyes(flicking gold, by a bright sun)—resolute. “I’d like to find out.” _Honest_.(Thinks: the scrutinizing gaze, set; within a neutral expression— _more than enough_ , to make it— _worth_ _it_ ….) Aloy smirks; shrugs a shoulder. “Not like I have anything to lose.”

“But everything to gain.” A slow smile(—barely there). Pauses. “Did you mean it?” Aloy hikes a brow. “Wanting to get to know me?”

“I did.” (—No hesitation.) “I wouldn’t lie about that.” Eyes: The woman, beside her and sees:

(So many— _Unknowns_.)

_The Want to Know_ ; kicking into Overdrive….

Makes. Her own— _shift_ ; closer. “With you. I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface.”

Maybe not even that.

(Remembers: Her statement on the eve of that final battle. How it _looked_ ; like the other, almost _believed_ _her_ …)

Vanasha stares—eyes, suddenly, grave. “Up for another secret?”

Nods: “Always.”

“Getting close to people, is an art; one I do often, and very well. Bodies are simple. Minds can be altered. Hearts? I stay away.” Levels; a finger, to the center of her chest. “But. There’s something about you, little huntress. Something locked so tight; yet open for all to see.” A blur of fingers — and the woman pulls her forward; _takes_ her lips; soft and cautious…

Backs away. “So. Let’s do it. Scratch.” _Bright_ eyes. A smile. “ _Deeper_.”

Aloy, touches; her lips.(Thinks. The smile:  _Beautiful_ …

the _stretch_ — beneath powder swept eyes)

— _Matches_  it. Presses— _forward_ ; and returns the gesture(awkward and **resolute** ).

“Let’s.”


End file.
